Twisted Addiction
by BuTtErFlIeS-AND-HuRiCaNeS
Summary: To my surprise it was not Edward's voice I heard on the other end of the intercom. Panic, guilt and longing ran through my veins as I recognised the voice. "Hello sweetheart, did you miss me?" A story of addiction. AH. Lemons in later chapters. Enjoy.
1. Preface

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-PREFACE-

The message Edward had left for me this morning told me I was supposed to meet him outside his apartment at 6. I'd arrived 10 minutes late due to the make-over his little sister Alice had insisted on giving me and yet Edward was still not down. As I waited I thought about the events of the past year.

Today is the 15th May 2017.

Today is the day I turn 20.

Today is the day I have been with Edward for a year.

Today is the day I have been clean for a year.

To celebrate Edward has planned us an evening out together, only he is almost twenty minutes late. Another five minutes passed and I pressed the intercom buzzer to hurry him up, I was in no real rush but it was rather cold and if Edward simply wasn't ready yet I would much rather have waited inside the apartment. To my surprise it was not Edward's voice I heard on the other end of the intercom.

Panic, guilt and longing ran through my veins as I recognised the voice.

"Hello sweetheart, did you miss me?"


	2. Mephadrone

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

-18 months previously-

BPOV

There is a look that everyday ordinary people give you the moment they know you are or ever were a drug addict. It is a look that doesn't change depending on whether you're hooked on heroin, cocaine, shrooms, poppers, E or whatever. It is always the same and it always has the same effect. It's a look that says I'm so much better than you for having never given in.

What makes the look even worse is the fact that half the people who cast the looks eyes are filled with envy, a small part of them would give anything to experience that legendary bliss that surrounds the hype of drugs.

Of course this is not true of everyone, many of the people casting the looks are too stupid to even understand the concepts of... well anything. They just follow the mechanical consumerist ways of society until they are dead and buried. They are beings that are too simple to feel anything that society does not tell them to.

Once you are high this look is incredibly easy to over analyse, I alone have had the conversation with 'friends' about the look more times than I can remember. You begin to think that the world is conspiring against you and the looks you recieve just seem to confirm your suspicions.

Upon walking into college I shield my face; in a vague hope that no one will pay enough attention to me to give me the look. I have dark circles under my bloodshot eyes and swollen cheeks from the 55 hour all nighter we pulled this weekend.

After weekends like this I thank fuck that I only ever have a half day on a Monday, I generally feel so rough that I alternate between sleeping and crying from about lunchtime today untill tomorow morning.

"Hey Bell," Rose said as she fell into stride next to me.

Rose was my best friend, in fact she was probably my only friend. Well the only one who I would actually enjoy spending time with sober as well as high.

When you're high you can never have too many friends. You're likely to spill your heart out to complete strangers thinking they will treasure your deepest darkest secrets. The obviously do not, generally most of the secrets which are told are quickly forgotten, time passes so quickly that very little is remembered.

These aren't the effects of all drugs; our sin of choice is mephadrone.

A relatively new substance that was brought into pharmacies as a legal high, only they then realised that it increases your blood pressure to dangerously high levels and can make you schizophrenic, hence the fact it's now illegal. During the time it was legal hundreds of people got hooked, the drug was cheap and easy to get hold of, it seemed for all instensive purposes, harmless.

"Please tell me you feel as shit as I do? Mike and the others didn't leave in the end so we all came straight from mine to school. You look like you have already hit your come down... good luck sunshine," she said in a quiet voice with a sarcastic undertone.

"I need coffee." I replied in a monotone voice, her only response was to chuckle.

We always tried not to come into school high, but sometimes it could not be avoided. For example, right now if Rose hadn't done a line just before she left the house she would probably have passed out from exhaustion at some point during the day. This would not have helped us blend into the background, which is something we try but often fail to do. So even though she hasn't slept and probably feels unbelievably physically tired she still hasn't hit her come down yet, which would be so much worse than being tired. If you have never done drugs and I mean real drugs not just weed or anything, you will never be able to understand the come down. Describing it can never do it justice; I suppose if you combined the feeling of eternal sadness, guilt, anger, loathing and pretty much every other negative word in the English dictionary you may be able to attempt to understand the feeling but you still wouldn't get it.

"My mum is back for the next three days," Rose whispered to me when we sat down in English.

Rose's mum was a jet setter she was barely ever home, she left her and her twin brother Jasper to look after each other for months at a time whilst she travelled the world. This meant I practically lived with her whilst her mum was away. Her brother was a stoner so he remained oblivious and unbothered by out antics, partly due to the fact he was barely there as he had a long term girlfriend in a neighbouring town.

"Damn, I hate not having our own home. How long is she leaving for after this?" I asked.

"She should be gone for a couple of months but our god-sister and god-brother are coming to stay, so she can travel with our god-father. I personally think she's fucking him and just wants the kids out of the way." she replied.

"What are they like?" I said. Wondering if this was going to mean no more drone all nighters at Rose's in case they told her mother.

"Jasper says there cool but I've never met them, here is to hoping they just stay out of our way," Rose sighed.

"Agreed," we fell into a comfortable silence after this each lost in our own thoughts.

Neither Rose nor I thought we were drug addicts, we could stop at any time we just didn't want to. We preferred being high and that was just how it was. Neither of us had a stable family to tell us different, all we had was each other. Getting high together was something that just made us comfortable and less unapproachable; it made us even closer, it was a good thing.

Anyway like I said we could stop at anytime.


End file.
